


Dramione Drabbles

by Rumaan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/pseuds/Rumaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ongoing drabbles, mostly written on tumblr, all Draco x Hermione.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The St. Patrick's Day Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Written on tumblr for withdrawnred from the prompt "D/Hr - stuck in Dublin for St. Paddy’s"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on tumblr for withdrawnred for the prompt "D/Hr - stuck in Dublin for St. Paddy's"
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not JKR and these drabbles are written purely for fun

“This is your fault, Granger!“ Draco snapped.

“What? How is this my fault?” 

“You insisted on coming out to this stupid bloody parade and now look what’s happened, we’re stuck in a bloody Muggle pile up and have missed our portkey back to London.”

“Oh, right, so this is all my fault. As if you had to be sweet talked into getting out here after spending the last two days stuck in one meeting after the other,” she said disdainfully.

“I had plans tonight,” he moaned.

“ _Granger, that sounds amazing. I’ve never been to Dublin before and I need to feel some sun on my face_ ,” she mocked savagely. “As if your pasty skin has ever done anything but burn!”

He glared at her, wondering just what the Ministry had been thinking, pairing them up to represent the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in a visit to the Irish Minister for Magic. So far they had spent the entire trip sniping at each other.

“I suntan nicely, for your information.”

“Sure, I bet you do,” she replied sarcastically. 

He ignored the irritating know-it-all and elbowed a tourist with a giant shamrock attached to his t-shirt out of his way.

“I don’t think we’re ever going to make it off this bridge,” he whinged, looking at the crowds of people all packed onto the O’Connell Bridge. 

“Patience is a virtue, Malfoy.”

“My patience has been used up on you over the past few days.”

Granger tutted and shot him a filthy look. For once, he was grateful for the presence of Muggles, as no doubt they had saved him being hexed by Granger. Instead, she had to settle for shoving him the shoulder. “Get a move on, Malfoy.”

\-------------

Six hours later, the lobby of Dublin’s most prestigious wizarding hotel was stunned into silence as a very giggly and very drunk pair of Ministry employees made their way across the marble floors to the bank of lifts.

“Granger, this was the best idea ever. Much better than going to dinner with stuck-up Astoria,” Draco slurred as he slumped against the back of the lift.

“It might just get better yet,” she replied before launching herself at him and attaching her lips to his.

_Thank Merlin for crowds_ , he thought as his hands tangled in her hair.


	2. Feather Duster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on tumblr for brightki for the prompt "Dramione and Spring cleaning".

“Draco Malfoy!” came the angry shout down the corridor leading to his study.

He jumped up from the sofa he was reclining on, the latest edition of _Quidditch Pitch_ falling to the floor as he observed his wife in the doorway, her hands on her hips, an angry expression on her face, and Scorpius peeking around her legs. 

_Damn_ , he thought. _Busted!_

“How come I just found Scorpius skating around the drawing room, dusters tied onto his feet whilst Tilly cleaned the windows when I specifically asked you to clean that room?” she asked

There was a brief pause until his Slytherin instinct to lie and manipulate his way out of trouble kicked in.

“Well, darling, I was cleaning the drawing room, dusting all the books that have somehow started to encroach in there despite us having a fully stocked library, when Tilly came in looking for Scorpius’ toy broom. You _know_ how distressed Tilly gets if she sees me doing anything remotely manual and I didn’t want her to distress herself, knowing how much that would upset you, so I let her talk me into allowing her to clean the windows. I was devastated not to be able to help, but I thought you would agree that the welfare of our elves is more important,” he said, finishing with a charming smile.

Hermione’s foot continued to tap on the floor and his smile faded.

“Would this be the same toy broomstick that I put away in Scorpius’ room not more than an hour ago?”

“Hermione,” he started to say, his hands spread out in confession, a contrite expression on his face.

“Every year, Draco, every year you pull this stunt. I ask you to do one task and somehow Tilly ends up doing it. Enough is enough! I’ve sent Tilly out to the garden to relax and you get to do all her work for the day.”

Draco blanched. “But,” he stuttered.

“No, you’ve gotten away with this for far too long. Now, chop-chop,” she said, handing him a feather duster.


	3. Chapter 3

“You know all this excitement is very unbefitting your family name,” Pansy said teasingly out of the side of her mouth.

Draco turned to face his best friend and made a face at her.

Pansy couldn’t help but smile, as he continued to direct his wand to the oversized banner that he was currently putting up on the vast expanse of the south lawn of Malfoy Manor. Pansy glanced over to her own husband to see if he needed help putting up the marquee but he seemed to have it under control, albeit that meant occasionally squirting Harry in the face with _Aguamenti._

“Where are your parents?” she asked.

Draco grimaced. “Hiding in their private quarters complaining about the invasion of blood traitors and moaning about how _that girl_ has ruined the Malfoy name.”

Pansy patted Draco on the shoulder in consolation. Lucius and Narcissa might never dare call Hermione a ‘Mudblood’ in front of Draco, but that didn’t mean they had taken his marriage to the Muggle-born with any grace. They refused to call her by her name and made their objection to her connection to their family very clear.

Not that this was anything new. Pansy had encountered her own problems with her father when she had married Ron Weasley, but he had eventually come around. Lucius and Narcissa showed no signs of that despite Draco and Hermione having been together for five years and married for two.

“Just how did you get them to agree to host this party here?”

“I didn’t. I informed them that I would be holding a congratulations party for Hermione and that they could absent themselves if they so wished, but it would be held here nonetheless.”

Marriage to Hermione had done Draco good, Pansy reflected. His ideology during the war had undergone a change and, whilst he would always love his parents, he no longer sought to follow in their footsteps. He was also never behind in challenging their views.

It was a change common throughout purebloods in their generation. A realisation of just how wrong pureblood supremacy was and how stupid their parents had been in following Voldemort, had given Pansy, Draco, and their friends the conviction to break away from the traditions of their upbringing.

A horse patronus burst into light at the edge of the decorative lake that sat at the bottom of the south lawn and galloped across the grass towards Harry. “We’ll be there in five minutes,” it said in Ginny’s voice.

There was a flurry of last minute activity before they all heard Hermione calling Draco’s name. Pansy watched with a grin as Draco lead his wife outside and announced with pride, “It gives me the utmost delight to introduce to you Hermione Malfoy, the youngest ever Head of Department in the Ministry of Magic’s history.”

Obviously flustered and surprised at the party, Hermione flung her arms around Draco, kissed him and very clearly mouthed, “I love you.”

An arm snaked its way around Pansy’s waist, and Ron rested his chin on her shoulder. “They look happy, don’t they?”

“Yes, nearly as happy as we are,” she replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: delighted


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt about wedding planning

Hermione wasn’t even sure how she’d been roped into this as she was about the worst person in the world to help out with this kind of thing. Then again, Ginny had just given birth to her first child and so she and Harry were understandably wrapped up in little James. And Ron – Ron was possibly even a worse choice than she was. Unless you wanted a Chudley Cannons themed wedding.

Then there was the fact that Neville had asked her with such a pleading expression on his face that it would be downright cruel to refuse. And Luna had beamed brightly and mentioned how she had the best friends in the world and any grumbling Hermione had wanted to voice at giving up her first free Saturday in months had withered away in her throat.

But then Draco Malfoy had walked out into the plush lobby of _Happy Ever After_ , clipboard in hand and proceeded to introduce himself as the wedding planner as if they had never met before.

“You have got to be shitting me,” Hermione interrupted, incapable of keeping her mouth shut. “Are you really going pretend like we don’t know who you are, Malfoy?”

“It’s called being professional, Granger, you should try it some time.”

“I should – I should,” she spluttered before pulling herself together and pulling herself up to her full 5’7 height. “That’s really funny coming from you, Malfoy!”

She turned to Neville and Luna then and said, “Are you really employing Malfoy to plan your wedding? He’ll probably hire Dementors for catering staff.”

Malfoy shot her a glare which she cut her eyes at before Neville gained her attention. “Hermione, he’s the best and Luna deserves nothing but the best.”

Hermione’s wrath deflated at that. Luna really did deserve the best and so did Neville. If they wanted their dream wedding planned by a pointy nosed ex-Death Eater, then she could keep her mouth shut long enough to get this thing organised. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t be watching Malfoy like a hawk.

“You’re right, Neville. It’s your wedding and if you guys want Malfoy then that’s who you’ll have.”

Neville squeezed her hand and Luna bounded forward, clapping her hands excitedly. “I was thinking of a Moon Frog theme,” she said and Hermione had to swallow a cackle that threatened to spill out at the confused expression on Malfoy’s face.

“Yes, Moon Frogs,” Hermione said innocently. “They are native to the moon, are they not, Luna?”

“Oh yes, but Aldwyn Dwennon brought them back on his Cleensweep Six. He told Daddy and me that he released them into the Romney Marshes so I was planning a trip there on the next full moon to try and find them. They are most active during a full moon understandably. It would be splendid if you would come and run your professional eye over them,” Luna said to Malfoy.

Malfoy gave Hermione a filthy look which she grinned evilly at before he muttered some polite platitude about how he’d love to come along.

And that set the tone for the rest of the meeting.

Despite her lack of desire to be involved in any wedding planning, Hermione enjoyed herself hugely. Every time Malfoy seemed sure to bring the meeting back to something achievable, she would drop a word that derailed the conversation once more and then gleefully watched as Malfoy struggled to maintain his professional demeanour and not snap at Luna.

She wasn’t feeling quite so pleased with herself at seven o’clock that night when she got a Floo Call from Malfoy who informed her that Neville had put her down as the primary contact and that he needed her to swing by on Monday evening after work to run through some of the aspects Luna definitely wanted incorporated.

She didn’t even _believe_ in marriage!

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for brightki: "My kid hero worships you - would you mind recording a message for them and signing an autograph?"

It was the incessant poking that first got Hermione’s attention from where she was enjoying a leisurely browse in Flourish and Blotts. The high pitched keening and wide eyed stare that followed had the furrow deepening between Hermione’s eyes as she stared at her daughter in mounting concern.

“Rose, what’s the matter?” she asked.

Sadly, Rose was never as enthusiastic about a trip to Flourish and Blotts as Hermione and Hugo were, so it definitely wasn’t excitement over a book. She would normally get out of such a trip by going over to the Burrow to spend the afternoon with her grandparents and whatever cousin happened to be there. But today, she had wanted to go and buy new Quidditch gloves and gaze at the newly released Nimbus 3050. It was said to be even more responsive to commands than the Firebolt Mark XI.

“It’s him,” Rose whispered agitatedly.

“Who?” Hermione asked, looking around the immediate area surrounding them and finding no ‘him’ other than Hugo, who was happily browsing in the Care of the Magical Creatures section. It was his favourite subject at school and Hermione often got little notes from Hagrid about how well Hugo was doing and whether or not he could get him some dangerous and ‘technically’ banned animal for his birthday (the answer was always no!).

“Draco Malfoy,” Rose breathed, sounding the syllables out lovingly and invoking the usual reaction from Hermione of gagging.

Much to her family’s disgust, Rose had developed a ridiculous obsession with Puddlemere United’s star Chaser. She copied all his signature moves and had her bedroom plastered with posters of him.

“Mum, you have to get me his autograph!” she hissed imperatively.

“Why can’t you get it?”

Rose stared at her in outrage and said, “You know how I get in front of people I admire. My skin goes all red and splotchy and I freeze up and cannot say anything that makes sense. No, you have to go for me!”

Hermione grimaced. “Sweetheart, you know that there’s bad blood between Malfoy and I.”

“Mum, please!” Rose whined. “He’s changed. You know he has. He had to undergo that re-education course the Ministry ran after the war and even Uncle Harry says that he is always helpful at the annual inspection Malfoy Manor undergoes. And I _really_ need his signature.”

Hermione had a reputation at the Ministry of Magic for being able to break anyone. She had single-handedly turned around the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – pushing out all the fusty old guard who had opposed her plans to update and improve the legislation around mistreated creatures such as house-elves. She was now doing the same in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sadly for Hermione, Rose had inherited this trick from her and was now using what Ginny termed her ‘eyes of doom’ to great affect against her own mother.

“Oh, very well! But I hope you know that you just earned yourself double chores this week.”

Rose beamed and said, “Thanks mum, you’re the best!”

Heading in the direction that Rose pointed her in, Hermione stomped irritably towards the Potions section.

“Potions! It would be bloody Potions,” she mumbled to herself.

“What was that, Granger?”

Hermione stopped at the sound of the cut glass accent assailing her ears and took a deep breath to brace herself for whatever witticism Malfoy planned on throwing at her.

“Malfoy,” she said as she turned to her left and saw him leaning against one of the stacks. “How lovely to see you.”

An eyebrow rose in amusement at her words. “Are you sure about that?”

Gritting her teeth, Hermione nodded and managed to smile pleasantly. “Of course.”

“Funny, because you always just walk past me like you haven’t seen me whenever I bump into you at the Ministry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I meant to stop and make pleasant small talk?” she snapped back before she could stop herself.

“Ah, there’s the Granger we all love and adore.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that you are always such a ray of sunshine.”       

“I guess I find it hard to play nice with someone who wished me dead,” she hissed at him.

He sobered instantly at that and Hermione felt a twinge of guilt. Not because she had potentially hurt Malfoy’s feelings but because she was meant to be getting Rose an autograph and so far all she’d managed to do was snipe at him.

Malfoy ran his hand through his hair before letting it drop awkwardly back to his side before he mumbled, “Yeah, well, things… _people_ change.”

“So I should hope.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Malfoy said with no trace of the smug arrogance that usually annoyed her so much in his voice. “I know that’s not really good enough for the way I behaved back at Hogwarts, but I really don’t think like that anymore and I know how wrong I was to ever hold those opinions.”

“Well…erm…” Hermione stuttered, taken aback from this switch from teasing amusement to sincere apology.

However, she really didn’t want to say that it was ‘okay’ or any of the other horrible polite platitudes that society drummed into you as automatic responses to apologies. Because really, it wasn’t okay despite how great it was that he had changed and was no longer bigoted.

“If there’s anything I can do to - not to make it up to you, because nothing will make it up – but if there’s anything you need then feel free to ask.”

Hermione smiled at that. “Well, funny you should say that. My daughter is a rabid Quidditch player and a massive fan of yours. She would be thrilled if she could get an autograph.”

Malfoy laughed outright at that. “Are you being serious?”

She nodded. He grinned and said, “Well, I guess I can do that. What’s her name – Rose, isn’t it?”

“How did you know that?”

He shrugged as he scanned the books on the shelf closest to him, smiling a little before he snatched one out and reached into his robes to bring out a self-inking quill. “I went to see Scorpius play his first match for Slytherin and it was against Gryffindor. Your Rose caught my eye. She’s a natural.”

Hermione couldn’t help the goofy smile that spread across her face. “She really is, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she must get it from her aunt though because if I remember correctly you couldn’t fly and Weasley scrapped through matches on luck.”

“Ugh, you couldn’t stay nice for more than a minute, could you?”

Malfoy raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not going to lie to you, Granger!”

“Yeah, yeah, and I’ll have you know I _can_ fly.”

“Sure. I bet you’re out in your free time helping Rose practice her Quidditch moves.”

She scowled at his sarcasm but took the book he held out to her. In the front leaf was a message inscribed to Rose. Her eyebrows rose as she saw the longish paragraph that detailed her daughter’s strengths and gave a few pointers on things she could sharpen up to improve.

“Thanks,” she said, as she closed the book and rolled her eyes as she noticed it was his autobiography.

“No problem.”

She gave him a nod and a small friendly smile before she turned and went to walk back to Rose.

“Hey,” Malfoy called out. “Maybe next time we bump into each other at the Ministry, I could buy you a coffee?”

Looking over her shoulder with one eyebrow raised, Hermione said vaguely, “Maybe.”

He huffed out a laughed at that, shaking his head a little before giving her a wave of his hand.

Later, when she went to pay her bill for the stack of books she and Hugo had chosen to take with them – along with Malfoy’s signed autobiography – she found that Malfoy had left instructions for it to be charged to his tab.

“See! Told you he was much nicer now,” Rose said, happily clutching the book to her chest.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: Halloween! Dramione and... wait, do you guys have candy corn? If so, candy corn. If not, then trick or treaters!

“Merlin, look at the little brats,” Draco said, sneering at the crowds of little Muggle kids that crowded the pavement in the search for chocolates and sweets. “Is that what they really _think_ witches wear?”

Hermione elbowed him in the side and hissed for him to be quiet, but really, he couldn’t.

It was the first time he’d experienced Halloween in the Muggle world and he was pretty horrified so far. However, Hermione had wanted him to meet her parents and he’d been invited over for dinner on a night that was coincidentally Halloween. So far, the doorbell hadn’t stopped ringing from the kids that streamed across the road demanding sweets.

“We could be in the Three Broomsticks right now,” Draco muttered as Hermione handed out another handful of Muggle chocolates to a little kid who seemed to be wearing a green suit with puffed up muscles.

“What is it meant to be?” Draco whispered in her ear.

“Hush, Draco, he makes an adorable Incredible Hulk.”

“Is that one of those superhero filims that you and Potter like so much?”

“They’re called _films_ and yes! And you said you liked them, too.”

He shrugged and said, “Yeah, well, I was trying impress you.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at that and gave him the giant bowl she was handing chocolates out from. “Here, take over will you, I need to check on the roast potatoes.”

“Don’t leave me alone,” he said distressed.

Leaning over, she gave him a brief peck on the lips. “You’ll be fine. Just hand out the chocolate and compliment them on their costumes.” Taking a quick look at his face, she rectified her words. “On second thoughts, just hand out the chocolate!”

As she walked down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house, Draco wondered if he could smuggle some of the Weasley sweets he had in his pocket into the bowl of Halloween goodies. It would enliven his evening up. However, as usual, Hermione seemed to read his mind.

“And don’t you dare add any of that Ton-Tongue Toffee I saw you buying at Honeydukes earlier.”

Pouting at having his fun ruined, Draco shovelled handfuls of chocolate into the pumpkin shaped buckets the kids were all carrying and thought of all the ways Hermione could make up for this night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: Dramione + candy corn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so candy corn is not something we have in the UK so even after asking friends and googling it, I could not work out how to base a prompt around candy corn so I went for pumpkin carving instead!

“Welcome to the Fifth Annual Leaky Cauldron Pumpkin Carving Competition,” Hannah Abbot said having transfigured her mouth into a truly terrifying megaphone for the announcement.

Hermione shivered at the sight and then gave an irritated huff as Draco Malfoy leaned over Luna Lovegood, who was the only barrier separating them this year, and said, “You’re going down, Granger!”

“In your dreams, Malfoy. I’m going to watch you cry into your jack-o-lantern and laugh!”

“Contestants! Pick your instruments up and start carving!”

It had become a point of pride to Hermione that she actually win this damn competition. It had been her suggestion in the first place. A way to bring some muggle tradition into the healing wizard community through a carving competition that allowed no magic whatsoever. It should have been a walk in the park for her to win the stupid little cheap trophy she’d found in a pound shop in Streatham, but it wasn’t.

Mainly because Malfoy had happened and she had become so obsessed at beating him each year that she’d let the competition on a whole slide.

This year, however, she was not going to let that happen. She was taking him out _and_ winning the crappy little plastic gold cup.

An hour later, her hair was a frizzy ball around her head, the sweat was dripping down her temple and she had pumpkin guts up to her elbows. Yet, she was proud of the three witches who cackled around a bubbling cauldron that she’d come up with. She looked across to Malfoy, who true to form had carved a dragon, wings outstretched as it blew fire from its mouth. It was impressive, she’d give him that, but it wasn’t as cultured as her three witches from Macbeth and she was sure Hannah would notice.

Malfoy sneered at her pumpkin and hissed, “What’s that, Granger? You, Weaselette and Looney?”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” she replied.

Neither of them paid attention to the beautiful haunted house Luna had carved in between them so her victory completely blindsided them.

\------------

Three hours later, Hermione was practically propping up the bar after drowning her sorrows in Firewhiskey.

“That trophy was mine!” she whined. “That’s the _third_ time Luna has won in just five years! I should be celebrating my sweet victory over you right now.”

Malfoy had his head resting on his hand as he surveyed her out of sleepy eyes. “Shut up about the bloody trophy, Granger,” he said.

“Make me!” she retorted.

“Fine!” he snapped, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers.

Hermione did nothing for a split second, shocked that _Draco Malfoy_ of all people was kissing her. Then she realised just how soft his lips were and how her knees buckled at the sensation. Her hand wrapped around his nape and tugged him closer in her quest to deepen the kiss.

“ _Finally!_ ” Hannah exclaimed from behind the bar. “I’m fed up of the pair of you using my carving competition as some kind of demented foreplay.”

A raucous cheer went up from the rest of the pub and Hermione smiled against Draco’s mouth and asked, “Want to get out of here?”


End file.
